Child Services
by SNSIE
Summary: Sam and Dean follow a lead to Prompton, PA where children are dying and encounter a ghost, and even scarier, Sam's ex-wife.


Child Services

By Rae Artemis

Prompton, PA

"Hey Dylan! I gotta go home. My mom said that if I was late for dinner again, no TV for a week." Laura called to her friend as she jumped off the jungle gym where they'd been playing for the last hour.

"Wow, harsh! That's not cool, geez parents suck." Dylan dropped gracefully onto the gravel below the massive metal contraption, joining Laura as they picked up their coats, thus avoiding the berating they'd get if they forgot them.

"Do you think it will snow again?" Laura asked as she sidled up to Dylan.

"I don't know, maybe." Dylan looked at his best friend with confusion and quirked an eyebrow. "Dude you okay? You look kinda weird."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Laura sighed as she trudged along to her house, wondering if anyone else in their grade three class had a crush on their best friend.

They eventually ended up at Laura's house and Dylan walked Laura to the door both feeling a little odd.

"Thank you, Dylan. It is so nice of you to walk Laura home." Laura's mom smiled down at Dylan in that way adults have of making children feel like they are far younger than they really are.

"Do you want to come in for some hot chocolate and cookies?" she asked; Laura rolling her eyes behind her mother's back, mouthing 'I'm sorry' as Dylan smirked.

"No thank you ma'am, I have to get going. My mom is expecting me for dinner, so I gotta run." Dylan waved awkwardly at Laura as he sauntered off the porch, knowing full well he wasn't going home.

Dylan walked past the playground and considered hanging out there for a while, not wanting to go back home to that room. That room that had that thing, that _thing _that lived in that horrible room.

He sighed; leaning against the chain link fence and scuffed his shoes, wondering whether getting in trouble with his parents for being late for dinner was worth avoiding that room for another couple hours. He pushed off the fence, dragging his feet over to the swings and flopped down on one of the wet and rusty seats. A sad whimper escaped him as he began to swing back and forth dejectedly, the cold wind ripping through his thin jacket. The sun began to drop like a stone, the temperature falling with it and Dylan began to involuntarily shake with cold.

As dusk fell, he began to miss home and wondered what his parents were doing, if they were looking for him. Dylan's answer was clear as he saw his mom's green minivan driving slowly up and down the street, fear etched on his mother's face. He pushed off the swing and started to walk towards the street, his head hung with resignation, tears of frustration burning his eyes. He jumped as a hand grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around violently. Suddenly he was face to face with his dad, who was very upset and red in the face as he made eye contact with his errant son.

"Dylan!" his Dad rumbled out as he pulled the shaking boy into a rough hug, made a little too hard from his fear. Breaking the embrace he pushed Dylan away, holding him by the shoulders and staring into his eyes. "Where have you been? Your mother and me were so worried! Why did you do that?"

With every sentence, he gave the eight year old a hard shake, the panic getting the better of him as Dylan looked up at him placidly; his little face expressionless and his eyes carefully guarded.

"I don' know, just didn't wanna go home yet." The boy mumbled, breaking eye contact with his father and giving a little shrug as he tried to get escape the strong grasp.

"You didn't want to come home? Why?" Dylan continued to avoid his eyes and he gave the kid a shake to make him look up from the pattern he was making in the gravel with his sneakers. "Dylan! You can't do that, you need to let us know where you are or if you're going to be late. We called Laura's and you left there two hours ago." Seeing he was getting nowhere, he pulled Dylan into a tight hug, trying to convey his love for his son in the mere embrace. "Dylan…I don't know what we're going to do with you. You can't just wander off pal, you can't." _Not when kids are being kidnapped from around here. _Were the words he left unspoken, not wishing to remind his son of his classmates' disappearances.

Dylan nodded as he recognized this as the part of Dad's lecture where you agreed with him or he repeated it, thinking that if he said it again it would make more sense. His dad dragged him into another hug and for a moment Dylan closed his eyes and tried to feel safe, which lasted until the hug broke. His dad took his hand, walking him towards the minivan where a semi-hysterical Mom waited.

Dad gave him a comforting smile as he helped Dylan into the backseat and did up his seatbelt, carefully making sure his wife didn't see this little display of machismo to boost the boy's spirits. Dylan was about to get an earful from his mother on the exact same subject.

Dylan hunkered down in his seat allowing his mind to wander as he tried not to think about where they were taking him, though he made sure to say 'yes' and 'no' at the correct times during mom's lecture about safety and curfews and 'why did they buy him a cell phone for emergencies if he wasn't going to turn it on?' He was jarred out of his thoughts when they arrived at a cheery yellow house with crisp white trim and a skeletal garden; all his mother's carefully nurtured plants dead or dormant for the winter months.

"Dylan? Honey?" He forced his tired head up to look at his mother who was now hovering over him with worry. "Sweetie, we're home." She said it like it was a _good_ thing but all Dylan could think of was the fact they were going to force him to go into that horrendous room again.

"C'mon champ, dinner is in the oven and then maybe an early night." His dad leaned into the van, his arms on the roof as he peered at his son; it looked like his adventure was catching up with him. Dylan mumbled something as he just about fell out of the car, exhausted and pale.

"Jim, why don't you carry him in and I'll heat up a plate for him." Diane gave her husband a peck on the cheek as she dug her keys out of her purse. She opened the door to a worried babysitter and their younger son, five year old Nolan, whose face lit up as he saw his beloved older brother.

"Dil! Dil is home!" Nolan crowed, trying to rush through his mother's arms of steel. "Dil!"

"Easy there sport, Dil is a little tired right now. Why don't we give him a minute so he can have some dinner, okay pal?" Jim held Dylan a little higher from the outstretched, overly excited hands of his brother. Diane was busy paying off their next door neighbour whom they'd called in when they were frantic to find their first born. The sound of snapping gum drew Jim's eye to their babysitter Annie, who was dressed in the teenage girl uniform of the current trends of retro-vintage-punk or whatever it was these days. She was being drilled by Diane in the traditional 'end-of-babysitting' ritual, from which his wife never deviated.

"Yeah it was, like, the usual." Annie shifted her weight on the ludicrous high heels she wore, a sign of her fashion slavery. "Nolan was a little weird about Dylan's room though, told me a story about a scary thing in the closet. I think he was trying to scare me, kinda cute that way." She ruffled Nolan's hair as he wandered by looking for his teddy bear he'd dropped in the excitement. "For us it was a pretty chilling evening, good to see you found the other little monster." Annie walked over to give Dylan a shoulder squeeze, her too cool teenager front slipping as she showed her affection for the little boys, whom she babysat on a regular basis.

"Thank you so much again, Annie." Diane handed the girl a handful of bills then began reheating Dylan's dinner.

"I'll walk you out." Jim carefully deposited his son into a chair at the table, where he sat completely zoned out and drained from his big adventure, before showing Annie to the door.

"Dylan, we're not angry with you sweetie, you just gave us a scare." Diane brought over the reheated spaghetti and a glass of milk before putting Nolan to bed as it was well past his bedtime.

Jim found Dylan half asleep at the table, the food barely touched; it was a disturbing trend that Dil had been up to recently. Putting it out of his mind, he went about putting Dylan to sleep; and once the boy was safe and sound in his bed, Diane joined him in saying good night. They stood at the door of Dil's room and looked down at his sleeping form; he was pulled tight into a ball, almost as if he were cowering in his sleep; his face screwed up and he was making small, almost defence-like movements. Diane sat down on his bed and tried to calm him, stroking his forehead only to have him pull, violently away from her touch. She sighed and moved back to the doorway; leaning into her husband and pulling him tight to her, yet never looking away from her angel.

"What are we going to do with him?" She murmured; her voice remarkably even for a woman, who, a mere hour ago, was screaming at the police as they didn't consider her son to be a missing person yet.

"Well we can't let it slide, no matter how relieved we are to see him home." Jim fought the urge to sigh himself. "His behaviour lately has just been getting worse and worse. Pushing his brother out of his room, slamming the door, not going to bed or trying to stay up, his surly attitude…we have to take a stand on it. Last week I found him still up at two in the morning. How about tonight, let's just be happy we found our baby. Okay hun?" He gave her a squeeze and gently pulled her away from their vigil; leading her to their room, both being exhausted from the dinnertime dramatics. At the last second she went back to tuck Dylan in again and kiss his forehead.

xx..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..xx

3:33 AM

He was torn from his sleep by the sound of Diane screaming, loud wailing screams that chilled his blood and forced consciousness on him immediately.

"Diane?" He bolted out of bed, his eyes still blurry from sleep. "Honey? What's wrong?"

Jim stumbled down the dark hallway to the source of noise. He stopped short at the door, grabbing the doorframe to keep from falling over his wife who sat slumped in the doorway, still screaming. By the nightlight's feeble glow, he saw what upset her and choked down screams himself, frozen in horror.

Dylan's bed was covered in blood; his walls had arterial spray across them from where he'd slit his little wrists. His face…his face was at peace though, for the first time in a month he looked peaceful, like he was sleeping.

"Daddy?" Jim spun around to see Nolan wandering out of his room into the hall across from his brother's room; his fists rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and dragging his blankie (I've never seen it spelled 'blanky' before, but I could be wrong, do what you want with that correction) behind him. "Wha's going on Daddy? Wha's wrong with Mommy?"

Jim scooped his son up and dropped him on his and Diane's bed as he called '911'; Nolan cuddling up to him as Diane continued to scream in Dylan's room, wailing hopelessly.

"Daddy can me an' Dylan go to the park 'morrow (a five year old would shorten the word)? He said we could play hide and go seek." He looked down on Nolan's innocent face and tears began to fall. "Why're you crying Daddy? Daddy?"

..xx...SUPERNATURAL..xx..

A week later…

Sam leaned against the headboard, fists boring into his eye sockets as he read through the various newspapers looking for a new case, hoping to find a new hunt, something to interest Dean now that the last hunt was done. Dean had been treating him a little odd after the last hunt, carefully and with kid gloves. Sam didn't like it. Dean was currently in the shower, attempting to avoid Sam while trying to make it look like he _wasn't_ avoiding him.

Sam scanned through the various articles that had caught his eye in the last half an hour since he'd crashed on the bed after his own shower. He was going about the ritual of checking for a new monster to hunt and a new reason to go on. Sighing, Sam felt the need for a 'pick me up', a little guilty pleasure he had. He hesitated, listening carefully for Dean, embarrassed at the thought of being caught. Comforted by the sound of running water and Dean singing something loudly but without discernable words, Sam pulled up the site in his favourites for Prompton, PA, a place where he had made good friends, been married and broke the family's one and only rule 'we do what we do and we shut up about it'.

Sam smiled as the familiar website pulled up, a site he visited at least once every couple of months. The smile disappeared as the headline appeared on the page, the black standing out against the stark white of the newspaper picture: 'Third Child Dead In As Many Weeks' and under it the picture some thoughtless person had snapped of the grieving family, their remaining son crying his eyes out. He sighed as he skimmed through the article wondering what had happened to the small town he remembered with such fondness. Sam was appalled to find that three children had died by their own little hands; all the suicides were under the age of ten, the youngest being six. He was jolted out of his reverie as Dean exited the bathroom, still humming loudly and slightly out of tune.

"What's up Sammy?" Dean asked as he flopped down on his bed. "It looks like someone killed your puppy."

"Just looking for a new case, that's all." Sam threw back offhandedly, his attention riveted as he researched further into the deaths of the children.

"Don't worry about it. Bobby called asking if we'd check out a possible shape shifter in Tulsa for him." Dean replied as he stretched out on his bed, running his hands through his spiky hair.

"I don't know Dean, I think I have a hot lead here." Sam hesitated, trying to figure out how to convince Dean to go against a request from Bobby Singer. "There's a town full of suicides, all of them under the age of ten. I'm thinking we might want to check this out."

Sam turned the laptop towards Dean to show the picture of be grieved little boy, grey tears on his tiny black and white cherub face. Sam could see Dean's resolve slipping as he stared at the devastated family, and seeing how close he was, Sam added _his _puppy dog eyes to the equation and he could see that Dean was caving in.

"Prompton, PA? Why do I know that place?" Dean rubbed his forehead as he tried to force the answer out of his overtired brain. "Was that where that werewolf cult was?"

"No, we never hunted there, at least not recently." Sam didn't want to remind Dean why he would remember that town. Sam still felt shame as to why they left. "We lived there for a while when we were young, maybe that's why it rings a bell."

"Well if kids are dying there, that is definitely a step up from the possibility of werewolves." Dean rubbed tiredly at his eyes, and pulled out his cell phone. "I'll phone Bobby and see if he can handle the shape shifter, to free us up for these weird ass suicides."

xx..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..xx

The next morning on the road; Sam was still researching the deaths and Dean was still racking his brain trying to figure out why the little town of Prompton was so memorable.

"Hey Sammy?"

"What?" Sam groaned, for what felt like the billionth time.

"Is that the place where you cried until I picked you up at that sleep over you begged Dad to let you go to?"

"No."

"The town where I had to get you out of your school locker every other day because that bully kept locking you in it?"

"No, and it was only like three times, man."

"Um, the place you whined and bitched about wanting a bike and so I got you that pink one with streamers?" Dean chuckled at the memory, as Sam rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth as Dean congratulated himself on his 'hilarious' pranks. "I remember how funny you looked riding it around, before I gave in to your bitching and spray painted it for you. It was there wasn't it?"

"No. And for the record, that was a dumb thing to do. Pink bike." Sam tore his eyes away from the research on his laptop. "You know, you can be a real ass sometimes. I used to hope it would fade as you matured, but we both know that's not going to happen."

Dean just grinned at him and continued his guessing game; not coming close _once _as Sam gritted his teeth and humoured Dean's trip down memory lane. Sam had just managed to tune his brother out while still holding a conversation with him, which was a hard learned skill when Dean switched to another tactic.

"Hey Sam?"

"What Dean?"

"Are we there yet?" Ignoring his brother's odd mood, Sam gazed out the window with longing; wishing they _were _there and worrying about their arrival in the town where he'd spent most of his first whole school year. "Hey Sam? Sammy?"

xx..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..xx

Dean had woken that morning physically rested but mentally exhausted. His dreams had been haunted by Sam choosing a dark path and Dean being either unable to end his baby brother and forced to watch the world end because of it; or worse, having to kill Sam. In the nightmares where he'd kill Sam, the ending had always featured his mother; a beautiful vision in white coming down from heaven to take Sam and give Dean a cold, disappointed look that cut him to the quick.

Why? Why did he doubt his baby brother? Sam was a good guy, better than Dean, so he knew he had nothing to worry about. But that damn yellowed bastard had put the thought in his head and after the last hunt it had only intensified his worry about, and, for Sam. Not wanting Sam to know his big brother doubted him; because who wants to know that kind of thing? Dean put up a front; playing stupid games and remembering times when they were younger. This was, in part, to distract Sam, who was looking pretty sombre this morning, and partly to remind himself what a great kid Sam had been and still was.

When Dean noticed that Sam refused to rise to the bait, even the 'are we there yet?' ploy of annoying him, Dean decided the trip down memory alley was done. He left Sam to his thoughts, though not before smirking at him when he blasted AC\DC's 'Back In Black'.

xx..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..xx

Dean watched as Sam drifted off in the car; a smile played over Dean's lips as he remembered times when the only way he and Dad could get Sam to sleep, was to put him in the car and drive around the block a few times, or just let the motor purr. Before long Sammy would be dead to the world. He turned down the music slightly and racked his brain as he tried to remember Prompton.

Sam dreamed of Prompton. It was a dream, not a vision. There was no pain, no fear; in fact it was a beautiful dream. It took him back to the actual house in which they'd lived and to a game of hide and go seek he'd played with some friends.

Terry had been counting to a zillion, his chubby little hands over his eyes as Sam and Tanya had tried out various hiding spots. It was when he'd opened the basement door that he'd discovered his dad was a spy. Normally the door had been locked, with only John and Dean carrying keys to it. But this time, it was unlocked; and Sam had skipped down the forbidden stairs, forgetting the rule in his haste to hide. As he reached the end of the stairs, he found out his Daddy's secret. Daddy was a spy!

There was a workbench covered in weapons, maps and pictures all over the walls along with John Winchester's current case; something to do with missing men and a certain house. The walls were covered in scary pictures and Sam had screamed. His scream becoming especially loud when he saw a picture of the bogeyman (though he now knew it was just a picture of a wendigo).

Sam had screamed and screamed, Terry and Tanya running down the stairs to see to their friend. They found him hiding under the workbench, his shaking hands covering his eyes as tears ran down his face.

Dean had been out at the store, so never knew that Sam had found Dad's 'spy stuff'; or that Terry and Tanya had seen it was well. Sam had been so shaken up that he had cried even after they taken him to his room. All his shaking and talking about the bogeyman had upset Terry as well. Tanya however had stayed very calm for a six year old, and had comforted both boys until their tears stopped. Later, she had given Sam a handkerchief and told him that if his daddy was a spy that meant he was super cool and so was his family. She'd then skipped off with her mom and twin brother, waving as Sam saw Dean returning home with groceries.

He was jarred out of his dream by Dean getting bored and poking him, asking if he wanted to stop for lunch. Sam smiled as he remembered the dream and fingered the handkerchief she'd given him. He still had it after all these years.

xx..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..xx

After seven hours in the car with Dean and suffering through the barrage of loud noise his brother called 'music'; Sam just about leapt out of the Impala in relief when they pulled into a gas station on the outskirts of Prompton.

"What's wrong Sammy? Giant feet falling asleep?" Dean called after Sam as he headed into the convenience store, looking for a new newspaper and maybe a coffee. He just needed a little space from Dean. His brother had been giving him odd looks all day and was acting about as mature as a third grader… no, a kindergartener.

The service clerk didn't look up from her fashion magazine when Sam entered; the cheerful 'ding-dong' of the door didn't provoke the slightest response. Sam picked up essential supplies; coffee, snacks, M&M's for Dean, a newspaper and a few other things. He wandered up to the register, his arms full and had to loudly drop it all on the counter before getting the teenager to look up from her engrossing magazine. When she did, her face took on an expression that was normally reserved for women talking to Dean; her eyes becoming a little wider, her cheeks flushed and a secret smile danced over her lips, making Sam a little uncomfortable.

"Hi." She fluttered her eyes at him, almost like there was an irritant in them as she tried to give him a seductive smile. However, as she was probably around fifteen, and Sam didn't feel like going to prison over jailbait; he valiantly ignored her and gave a gracious but neutral smile. "Is that everything for you?" Jailbait lowered her voice, giving it a husky rasp as she bit her lip in what Sam suspected _she_ thought was either cute or sexy.

"Yeah, well this and the gas for the black Impala out there." Sam gave her a gentle smile, privately wondering why the girl was so interested in him.

"Ooooo, nice car." Jailbait purred, her eyes ranging over Sam and not the classic car. "Very nice."

"Say, um, I'm kinda in a hurry. If I don't pay for all this and get out there, my brother might leave me here." Sam gave an apologetic shrug and reached for his wallet to encourage the girl to ring his items through already.

"Wouldn't that just be terrible?" She asked as she slowly began to scan and bag his things, a pout forming as she finally recognized that Sam wasn't going to flirt with her at all. "Well that will be $47.86. Are you driving through or visiting?" Her eyes flashed with lust as she held out her hand for payment.

"Me and my brother are on a road trip. Just checking out the sights, so we might stick around for a while but, yeah probably passing through." Sam swore he could see her jaw clench at the news he wasn't going to be around to gawk at for too long.

Just as Sam was getting his change and finally leaving the bordello that passed for a gas station, Dean came in, no doubt wondering what was taking so long.

"Geez, geek boy. I give you the simple task of paying for the gas and you take-" Dean saw the jailbait cashier and abruptly stopped speaking as he took in the look in her eyes; the surprise at having two handsome brothers in her little store, wreaking havoc on all her senses . "Ah I see what took so long." Dean smiled as he wandered over to the counter, Sam mentally cursing the hold up and shameless flirting that was about to occur.

"Why hello, there." She purred, almost imperceptibly checking her reflection in the anti-theft mirror that hung across from the counter. "I'm Chastity." She gave Dean a saucy wink.

"Pleased to meet you darling." Dean drawled as he leaned on the counter; the big bad wolf with little red riding hood. "We're just passing through, but in the last town we heard there was something weird going on around here?"

"Oh, yeah, that." Chastity lowered her voice, in either a calculated move to make Dean move closer or out of respect for the dead. "It _has_ been weird. A bunch of kids have killed themselves for no reason and the really scary thing is, like, they're all in elementary school! When I was back in elementary, the only thing I worried about was whether or not 'N'sync' was going to break up." Dean mentally chuckled at the tone she used; the kid was barely out of elementary school by the looks of her and yet the tone inferred that it was a long time ago,

"Actually its weird, a friend of mine, Annie Murphy was a babysitter to all of the kids who have died and she's freaked by it. Said the kids were, like, totally depressed a month or so before they offed themselves. She's _so_ upset by it. She loved those little brats." She saw the look on Sam's face at her lack of respect for the children and lowered her eyes dramatically before placing her hand on top of Dean's. "It's just so terrible, like, a tragedy or something."

"Chastity are you working? 'Cause if I find you reading that damn magazine I'm gonna be docking your pay!" A male voice rumbled from the back room before the door was flung open to reveal a mechanic, covered in grease.

"I'm working Daddy!" She screeched back, failing to see Dean's look of panic as her father approached. He quickly pulled his hand out from underneath hers and backed away from the counter to stand with Sam.

"Yeah, I bet you are." The man threw back as he grabbed a cup of coffee, taking in the, now, very nervous Dean and slightly smug Sam.

"Well it was nice to have met you, have a nice day." Dean chirped with a fake smile as he and Sam sauntered out of the convenience store. Once back in the Impala, Dean gave Sam a relieved look and sighed.

"Man I thought I was going to have a heart attack when her dad showed up. Did you see the giant wrench he was carrying?" Dean shook his head as he gunned the engine, smiling at the purr of his baby.

"Dude, you do know she is totally jailbait right?" Sam looked over at Dean who had a small smile on his face. "Man, that's just wrong!"

"First off, I wouldn't; and second, I wasn't thinking about that, I was thinking about how pathetic you looked freaking out when she was flirting with you. If a woman likes you and you need information about the town, why not find out what's going on while being adored?"

"Well, because…because she was jailbait that's why." Sam crossed his arms, annoyed that Dean had seen him getting hit on and found it funny.

"And I did nothing wrong, I merely flirted harmlessly." Dean saw Sam preparing to argue, and decided to divert the lecture. "So we learned the name of the babysitter and that the kids did themselves in."

"Which we knew already." Dean gave him a look, a quirk of the eyebrow that read as 'the babysitter's name?', which was true as it hadn't been in any other the news articles. "Fine, we got a name to track down then. Unless you wanna go back and try for an address."

"No, I think my moment of 'connection' with Chastity is over." Dean smirked as he said it, stifling a little laugh. "I wonder if she knows how ironic her name is? 'Cause there is no _way_ she's chaste."

Sam couldn't help but agree, though he found it a little weird that a young teenager would want to jump a guy who was almost twice their age. _Well look at George Clooney and Sean Connery, they're pretty old, yet women always seem to think they're hot stuff,_ Sam theorized as they drove further into town to find a motel to stay for the night.

As they pulled into the motel parking lot Dean slammed on the breaks a little hard. "Dude! This is the town where you got married!" Dean exclaimed excitedly, finally remembering why he knew the name.

"Yeah, I got married." Sam rolled his eyes at a broadly grinning Dean. "In kindergarten and the person who married us was her brother. Seriously how do remember stuff like that?"

"Mainly because you wore a twist tie around your ring finger for two weeks and refused to take it off for anything. Same with the girl, she wouldn't take hers off either because you two were 'maw-reed'. And that was also the only time you got into trouble at school, ever! All because you two refused to _not_ hold hands in class; said you could because that's what 'maw-reed' people did. Honestly how could I not remember this town?"

Sam smiled at his brother and got out of the car, leaving Dean to chuckle at the cute memory and reminisce to himself.

xx..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..SNSIE..xx

After checking into their motel, Sam and Dean had gone into heavy research mode, trying to see what kind of demon could drive a person to suicide. Sadly, most of their research turned up nothing; and the little that did, showed that the demons usually attacked adults. Being no longer pure meant they were easier prey. After a frustratingly futile afternoon, they broke for dinner at Dean's insistence, finding a little diner and a booth by the window.

"I don't buy it man, why are kids so pure? I mean maybe way back when, like the 1940's maybe …but nowadays? The little brats would egg your car as soon look at you." Dean muttered in disgust; remembering a Hallowe'en when a group of young vandals had dared desecrate his baby.

"Dean, the egg washed right off, mainly because you went out scared the hell out of those kids and washed it off before they'd even cleared the parking lot. _Then _we had to leave before the kids called the sheriff on the crazy guy who yelled at them and pulled out a gun, 'for no good reason'." Sam smiled as he remembered Dean's obsessive-compulsive behaviour regarding the Impala for weeks after; the need to check the spots where the 'hooligans', which was also the only time he ever heard Dean use the word 'hooligan'.

"So what do you-" Sam lost his train of thought as a vaguely familiar guy walked in the door. Sam couldn't help but stare as the guy, he looked like someone he knew, but Sam was certain he'd never seen the man before.

"Sam? Sammy?" Dean snapped his fingers in front of Sam's face to bring him out of his 'trance'. "What's up man?"

"Nothing man, I'm just a little distracted I guess." Sam hunkered down in the booth and looked over the options for dinner. "What are you getting?"

"Cheeseburger." Dean glanced over at the waitress who was currently taking an order off another table then turned and gave Sam his trademark smirk. "Maybe a little something for desert, too."

Sam followed his gaze to the rather attractive red head and rolled his eyes at his brother.

"Sometimes I wonder if you were to go to a shrink and get analyzed, what would be learned." Sam shook his head, over-awed at the possibilities. "I can't even _imagine_ what would be discovered."

"I think the whole mysterious thing works, why mess with it?" Dean's million-watt smile flared as the waitress appeared at their table.

"Hey there, what can I getchya?" She looked up from her order-pad to give a cheerful smile that became a genuine grin as she looked over at Sam. "Don't I know you from somewhere? Didn't we go to school together? Or do you maybe work out at the YMCA?"

"Um, I haven't, that is, _we_, haven't lived here since I was six." Sam recognized her as well, though he had no idea where from.

"Oh, have you ever been on TV?" She asked, furrowing her brow as she racked her mind for the answer. "Either of you?"

Dean exchanged a look of worry with Sam; they were still wanted by the FBI, so the possibility of their pictures being flashed on TV occasionally was a concern.

Then it hit him; Sam _knew_ who she was. "Tanya!" He jumped out of the booth and pulled her into a surprised hug.

"Sammy?"

The guy in the corner booth bolted out of his seat and stalked towards Sam and Tanya with a vaguely angry expression on his face. He pulled Sam and Tanya apart and spun Sam towards him; readying for a fight.

"What the _hell _are you doing to my sister, jackass?" He demanded as he cocked back his fist.

Dean was up and out of his seat, pulling the guy off Sam and putting his arm in an effective joint-lock that was _extremely _painful.

"Let him go!" Tanya jumped in, pulling at Dean's arm while Sam stared at the somewhat disreputable man that Terry had become.

"Sam?" Terry stared up at the giant that Sammy had become, awed by the fact that his little best friend who he'd teased about being short, was now a towering giant. "When the hell did you get so tall?"

"Wait! This is little Terry? And this hottie is Tanya?" Dean was astounded and released Terry who came up rubbing his sore wrist. "This is Tanya? Tanya who stuck gum in my hair so bad I had to shave my head?"

"You still remember that?" Tanya giggled at the memory of Dean with a bald head.

"Kinda hard to forget when it earned me the nickname 'Q-ball' for the year at school." Dean patted his hair in a sentimental manner; remembering how cold winter had been that year.

"Well it's been…" Tanya gave Dean a hug as she tried to remember how long it had in fact been. "My god, it's been forever since we last saw you! Nineteen years! Where does the time go? It's just _flown _by, hasn't it Ter?"

Terry was still rubbing his wrist and looking coldly at Dean who gave him a shrug by means of an apology. Tanya rolled her eyes as Terry shook Sam's hand without a word and stalked back to his table.

"What's with him?" Sam jerked his head at Terry as Tanya sat down at their booth; Dean smiling uncertainly at Tanya.

"He's just really upset because our Uncle Ed died recently. Terry seems to have taken it a little hard." Her forehead wrinkled as she worried about her twin. "Its not like they were that close, actually we've barely seen him in the last few years…after we moved out of his house."

"You were living with him? Why?" Sam remembered her parents and how perfect they were.

"Our parents were killed in a B&E when we were nine, it was pretty hard." She paused as tears filled her eyes. "And then we were sent to live with Uncle Ed, which is where I was until I got married. Terry was actually still living with him until a few months ago when Uncle Ed died; it was pretty hard on him." Tanya looked over at her brother, the concern evident in her eyes.

Sam didn't know how to respond to that, so he gave her a hug just as her manager came out.

"What the hell Tammy? I don't pay you to flirt with the customers! And what would your husband think of this, I wonder?" The man was overweight and smoking a large disgusting cigar.

"Oh sorry Greg, I just…" Tanya shot up from the bench so fast she jarred her knee against the table.

"My fault sir, I haven't seen Tanya in almost nineteen years and insisted we catch up." Sam interrupted, as Tanya hobbled back to the kitchen to serve tables.

"Well, as you can't seem to keep yourselves from jabbering or feeling up my staff, you get special treatment. I'm going to be your waitress." The man gave them a greasy smile and Dean felt his appetite die a little. "What's your order boys?"

They ordered their food and sat in a semi-stunned silence, digesting all the new information they'd just been given.

"Well," Dean spoke getting Sammy's attention and his confused puppy dog eyes to boot, "I guess that's how you knew about the deaths here." Sam gave him a small grin and nodded, looking over at Terry who was staring sullenly at their table. "I forgot how good friends you all were; the three musket-trears you called yourselves."

"I wonder what happened to Terry to make him…" Sam trailed off, not able to _begin_ to comprehend the changes in his one-time best friend. "I honestly can't believe that's Terry."

"Dude, _I_ honestly can't believe you all recognized each other after nineteen years!"

"It's only been eighteen and a half years, Dean."

"My mistake, eighteen and a half years, makes all the difference." He smiled at Sam who returned a slightly saddened one. Their dinner was a quiet one, a fairly subdued affair as they tried to discuss the case without letting people know why they were here. The bright spot of the meal, after the reunion, was that when the bill was dropped off it had Tanya's number on it and a suggestion for dinner at her place the next night.

"I guess we'd better get a start on this case then, because I sure as hell don't want to miss the first home-cooked meal we've had offered. It's been too long. Not counting Bobby's cooking, of course, which is bachelor cooking at the best…or worst." Dean eased out of the booth, waving at Tanya as he left the diner; waiting outside and watching Sam's departure.

Sam waved to Tanya as well, though; obviously not wanting to get her into trouble with her boss again, but he stopped to talk to Terry. Dean was surprised at Terry's reaction; he was surly and actually pushed Sam away, quite forcefully from the way geek boy stumbled back. Dean fought the urge to rush to Sam's defence and waited in the cold for Sam to come out; the lost look in his brother's eyes, heartbreaking to Dean.

"He…he's so _angry._" Sam muttered; seeing the look of concern in Dean's eyes. He gave a shrug, trying not to seem as hurt by it as he had been. In his mind, he'd idealized his time in Prompton and his friendships with Tanya and Terry. This had always been a happy memory from his childhood that didn't need to have Dean in it. Of course Dean had been in many of his T&T memories, but usually babysitting them and letting the kids play amongst themselves. Sam gave one last glance at the diner before joining Dean in the Impala.

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The next day they impersonated detectives to find out what they could about the deaths, calling up Bobby for a little research help on suicide demons, of which, there was a strangely wide variety. After speaking to all but one of the grieving families and nearly coming to blows with the family first to lose their children; they came to Dylan Duke's family, the most recent of the deaths. Sam felt horrible for what they had to do, stirring up the memory of the child's death. But as he knocked on the door, he knew he had to, they _had _to find out what was happening and stop it.

"Do we really have to?" Sam looked over at his brother who nodded solemnly. He didn't want to upset the family either, but he knew that to save more of the town's children, they had to.

The door opened to show a broken man; he was in his bathrobe and looked like he hadn't shaved in several days. He also had the haunted eyes of someone who'd seen a truly horrific sight.

"Mr. Duke?" Dean saw the man wince as he 'recognized' them as police. "I'm Detective Doyle and this is Detective Hallet. We're here to do a follow up interview about the incident that occurred here a week ago."

"Listen Detective, I don't think my wife can handle another round of questions right now." Mr. Duke looked back into the house, a pained expression in his eyes. "We just…we need to get past this. We need to forget, it's just too painful." When he turned back to look at them, there were tears streaming down his face.

"I'm sorry sir, I know this is hard but to get past it you have to face it head on." Sam cleared his throat, almost hating himself for this part of the job. "I have an idea as to what you're going through, please trust me on this; I know what I'm talking about." Dean watched as Sam gave the man an earnest look and watched Mr. Duke steel his resolve and nod his agreement.

"Please, follow me." He led them to a sitting room full of family pictures he noticeably avoided looking at. "Our youngest son is with my parents right now, Diane and I just can't deal with Nolan and the death all at once." Mr. Duke's voice broke as emotion threatened to over take him. "He keeps asking where Dylan is. We've explained he's with the angels now, but I don't think Nolan really understands. We were careful to keep him from seeing the room and his brother's body that night, no child should see that _ever_. Hell, I wish I'd never seen it." Dean could see the man getting upset and choosing anger over sadness. "What is it you want? I thought it was already proven that- I thought you could show that Dylan died by himself? Why are you back here?"

"Sir, as I said, this is just a follow up interview to see if there's anything else about that night you remember. Possible factors such as a bully at school or outside of the school environment. We take these kind of cases very seriously, sir." Dean felt horrible, like he was beating the man without even touching him.

"I don't remember there being anything odd about him, I thought he was just tired. I mean the kid wasn't sleeping. I often fall asleep on the couch at night, my wife goes to bed around ten and I usually stay awake to watch the eleven o'clock news and then almost always fall asleep on the couch. I sleep there until around one or two in the morning." Mr. Duke was wringing his hands and his shoulders had slumped in defeat as he had to relive it all again. "I'd wake up at two in the morning and the kid would be awake, sitting outside of his bedroom door, like he was afraid to be in there. I figured it was just a phase; he used to sleep upside down in his bed when he was younger. I guess I should have seen it, I didn't have any idea what has happening to my son."

"It's alright sir, no one could have seen this coming." Sam leaned forward and squeezed the man's shoulder to try and comfort him. Sam opened his police-looking notebook. "I believe the report said your wife was the first one to find him, correct?"

"Yes, I guess she woke up to check him, she was a little upset after he didn't come home that night and we had to search for him." Mr. Duke took a steadying breath, and scrubbed at his face, shattered all over again as he had to relive the worst night of his life. "I went to bed the same time as her, it had been a long day and we were both exhausted. The next thing I knew, she was screaming and I found her and Dylan." He took a shuddering breath and dropped his face into his hands as he lost his last bit of control.

"I'm so sorry to bother you sir, but is your wife at home?" Dean asked as he passed the man the box of tissues, which judging by the weight of it was just about empty. "We'd like to hear from her as well, and, according to our reports, she was very withdrawn and uncommunicative during the interviews. We're hoping to be able to get a fuller picture of events from her point of view."

Mr. Duke slowed his weeping and shuddering breathing, he wiped his eyes with a finality that informed them he was done for now.

"My wife's in Dylan's room, she's been going there every day since he died." Mr. Duke looked up at them with bloodshot eyes. "They had to ask to her to leave so they could document the scene and then when the cleaners came she stayed to be sure they wouldn't touch his things. It's just down the hall, first door on the left, she'll be in there. If you'll excuse me… I can't go in there just yet."

"Thank for you time, Sir." Dean and Sam got up and shook hands with Mr. Duke, before walking down the hall to the bedroom.

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The door was open a crack and the sound of sobbing was evident even outside the room. As they went in Dean pulled the EMF detector out of his pocked and covertly scanned the room while Sam carefully sat down beside Mrs. Duke who appeared not to have slept or bathed recently.

"Mrs. Duke? Ma'am?" Sam put a gentle hand on the woman's shoulder and she snapped out of her trance like state.

"What are you doing here? I won't leave, if Jim sent you to make me leave I'm telling you now, I won't." She stuck out her chin like a stubborn child and narrowed her eyes at them.

"No, Ma'am, we're detectives doing a follow up interview, we came about your son Dylan's death." Sam was beginning to fear that the woman had broken with reality and would be of no help.

"I didn't listen to him, that's the problem. He told me there was something bad in here but I thought…" She looked at Sam with haunted eyes, and gripped the teddy bear she was holding even tighter. "He told me there was a bad thing in his room and that it made him feel bad, dirty and sad. I thought he was having nightmares of the bogeyman. But now I know. I got up to check on him that night and I saw something." She gripped Sam's hand tightly and looked into his eyes with her manic ones. "I saw something, a man or something and poor Dylan." She began openly sobbing, and she held on to Sam, rocking gently as she cried, her voice becoming rougher and more agonised. "He was crying and then the door shut and then…and then…when I opened it…he was dead! I should never have made him go in there! I should have known!"

She rocked back and forth the teddy bear she'd been holding forgotten at her feet as she clung to Sam who comforted her as best he could. Dean watched the scene and felt horrible; but at least now they had a lead. Sam sat with the woman until she cried herself out and slipped into an exhausted sleep. Dean slipped out of the room to grab the husband and he picked up his wife and put her to bed.

"I don't know the last time she slept, I'm sorry for that. It's just such a shock to us both, we're still learning how to live with it." Mr. Duke shook their hands and held the door for them.

"Take care sir, best of luck to you." Dean walked towards the car and when he realized that Sam wasn't with him he stopped and turned to see what was going on.

"Please sir, don't blame yourselves for this, sometimes you can't see things coming …and this is one of them." Sam pleaded with the man who appeared to be quite prepared to wallow in guilt for the rest of his life. "Your wife seems to blame herself, don't let her, or yourself. This is a tragedy and the greater tragedy is to allow more damage done by pointless guilt." With that he spun on his heel and walked towards the car, more determined than ever to stop whatever was doing this.

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In the car they both heaved a simultaneous sigh of despair. Dean started the car and pulled out, for once not putting on music.

"That was hard, definitely harder where kids are involved." Dean said gritting his teeth in frustration, the pain on the parents' faces burned into his memory forever.

"Yeah, that was harsh." Sam sighed leaning back in the seat; he scrubbed his face trying to think about the information they'd gotten. "Did you get a …uh, um." Sam closed his eyes and scrunched up his forehead as he tried to focus. "Did you get a reading on the EMF? Did she really see something or is she just upset? 'Cause if you got a reading it's probably a sicko ghost, which would be easier to track down than a demon."

"Yep, there was EMF and after coming back to this town I think I have a prime suspect for our ghost already." Dean sighed, not wanting to destroy Sam's perfect remembrance of the town.

"Already? How the hell did you figure that out?" Sam stared awestruck at Dean who had just done a miraculous thing according to Sam

"Well, after meeting up with Tanya and Terry last night, the year we spent here came back to me and I remembered a few things." Dean took a deep breath not sure how to tell Sam his suspicions about his two cherished childhood friends. "Do you remember how much time they liked to spend over at our house? And how upset Tanya got when she mentioned her Uncle last night?"

"He just died and she did live with him for a long time, Dean, of course she'd get choked up."

"No Sam, they would…what I mean to say is… I think…" Dean looked into Sam's eyes and though it killed him, he told him the truth. "I think they were abused by their Uncle and I think he's our candidate for ghost. The timing makes sense, Terry's attitude makes sense, and everything points to this including my gut. I remember when I'd watch you guys how upset Terry would get when he'd have to spend a weekend with his Uncle, he'd beg and plead to stay with us. Once he ran away and hid in the backyard."

"I just can't believe it. How did I not see it?" Sam sat dumbfounded as this alien idea slowly began to make sense to him. "How?"

"Because you were an innocent then, you had no idea about anything like that and they never actually told anyone." Dean felt like a jerk because he knew they were going to have to confront Terry and Tanya on this, in case something they were doing was setting the ghost loose. He was going to have to ruin four families today, not just three.

"We need to find the bones and burn them." Sam stated, not wanting to consider talking to Terry and Tanya about something this horrific.

"Sammy, you know we need to check the theory, be sure of it." Dean saw the pained look on Sam's face and almost relented. "I'm sorry Sam but we have to. We're running out of time. The pattern shows; and if we're wrong there will be another death any day now and if I can stop that… I'll do what I have to."

"No, you're right. We have to talk to them."

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They returned to the motel to change and gather supplies, instead of feeling relief both were apprehensive and edgy for the night to come.

"C'mon Sam, Tanya said a little after six and its already ten past, we don't want to be late." Dean felt horrible doing this to Sam, almost like he was corrupting his brother's childhood again.

"Dean?" Sam slumped onto his bed, feeling weighed down by guilt and regret. "Before we go, I need to tell you something."

"Tell me later Sammy, we're late." Dean was almost at the door, his duffel bag of supplies over his shoulder.

"No Dean, I need to tell you now." Sam took a deep breath, feeling like he was about to confess his sins, though Dean was the least likely candidate for a priest. "Do you remember the reason we had to leave town so suddenly?"

"Um, Dad said something about an important job somewhere else, and that since it was only a week until summer break we could go and not ruin school records or something." Dean furrowed his brow trying to remember it clearly but he had only been ten at the time, so it was all pretty fuzzy. "Why Sam? Unless this has something to do with the hunt, I don't know why you need to tell me now."

"I just do." Sam took another deep breath and continued. "We had to leave because Terry told his Uncle about the basement."

"What do you know about the basement in that house? It was always locked, and you were never allowed down there."

"You'd gone to the store to get some food for lunch, and left me and Terry and Tanya here to play hide and go seek. For some reason, the basement was unlocked and I decided to hide down there. Anyway the pictures and the weapons freaked me and I started screaming, which brought Terry and Tanya down. Terry started freaking out too, but Tanya stayed calm and figured Dad must have been a spy, which she said was cool and she calmed us both down." Sam sighed remembering breaking the first rule of the family, 'we do what we do and we shut up about it'. "Anyway, apparently Terry told his parents who were so freaked out by his description of the weapons that they called Child Services on us and so Dad had to run. That was when Dad told me not to tell people about anything and he basically forbade me from having people over to the house. I remember just crying because I lost my two best friends."

"Sam, I…" Dean tried to figure out what Sam wanted from him, absolution? Pity? Anger? He had no idea. "Sam, I didn't know why we had to leave. And I don't know why neither of you told me about this, but it was in no way your fault, you didn't know and you were a kid. Honestly, I don't hold it against you at all, I feel bad for you because I remember how much you missed T&T and how devastated you were when you found out we weren't going back, ever." Dean sat down beside Sam, not sure what else to say. "It's not your fault kid, bad things just happen sometimes. Besides if it is anyone's fault its mine, I should have locked the door. I'm sorry you lost your friends, Sam."

There was a comfortable silence that quickly morphed into an awkward silence, leaving both brothers on the bed waiting for the other one to break it first; the ringing of the motel phone did it for them.

"Hello?" Sam had picked it up while Dean went outside to stow his gear in the Impala. "Oh geez sorry Tanya, I guess I just lost track of time." Sam hung up and raced out to the car where Dean waited; Metallica already blasting from the speakers.

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They stopped on the way to pick up a bouquet of flowers for Tanya, as thanks for inviting them to dinner. She opened the door of the mellow yellow, ranch-style house to reveal a cosy home full of noise, kids and pets.

"Welcome to the nuthouse." She proclaimed as they gawked inside. "David is just BBQ-ing on the back porch, so I hope you guys like hamburgers. It was his night to cook and so it was either burgers or an omelette." She gave them a grin and pulled them into the chaos. After a round of introductions to her husband, David and their four children: Laura, Ryan, Tristan and Jadine the party began. It wasn't until the kids had gone to bed and David had also retired that Dean and Sam had an opportunity to talk to Tanya alone.

"Again, I'm sorry Terry couldn't make it, he was just feeling so sick today." She smiled sadly at the lame excuse and shrugged her shoulders unsure what else could be said. "I know he would have loved to spend some time with you both." Tanya rubbed at her eyes, tired and having a hard time lying to Sammy. "What's the use? He's not here because he still feels guilty about ratting your dad out to our parents. I'm so sorry by the way. It hurt him to lose you." She placed her hands over Sam's and gave him a squeeze.

"Its alright, we were kids and didn't know anything would happen, its fine." Dean gave her his best reassuring smile.

"Um, Tanya I need to ask you a delicate question, and while it may sound really weird or invasive or even rude, believe me there is a good reason for me to ask." Sam took a deep breath and with a nod from Dean plunged in to the main reason they had come over. "You said you lived with your Uncle after your parents died, and…Dean, I can't."

"Can't what? And what about my Uncle, Sammy?" Tanya's voice had gained a note of slight panic and her eyes widened a little at the mention of her uncle.

"Tanya, I know this is difficult but were you ever abused by your Uncle, either physically or sexually? I understand how rude a question this may seem, but believe me your answer could save lives." Dean tried to seem as sincere as possible as it was a delicate situation, but he also had to know because time was running out according to the pattern of the attacks.

"What the hell are you on?! Why would you ask me that? What is wrong with you?" Tanya whispered angrily at them, not wanting to wake up her children or her husband. "Get out of my home now!"

"Please Tanya, just wait a moment, we need to tell you something." Dean looked at Sam, who was stricken with the fear of losing his perfect memory. "I believe you and Terry were abused by your Uncle and I know he died a few months ago and that he had complaints against him from various families and organizations about his conduct regarding children."

"Get out. Get out now!" Tanya voice began to shake and tears were silently streaming down her face, until she began shaking and all out sobbing. Sam moved over to her and gently began rubbing her back and tried to comfort her. He waited until she stopped shaking before pulling her into a hug, gently rocking her until she stopped crying and began to pull away.

"I'm sorry." Tanya sniffed and gulped back her sobs, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief that she'd given Sam eighteen and a half years before, smiling as she recognized it. "You still have this? That is so cute."

"It reminded me of good times with you and Terry." Sam gave her a hopeful smile, wiping her eyes for her. "Honestly Tanya, we wouldn't bring this up if it wasn't really important. I swear this is direly important and it could save more children from the kind of abuse you had to endure. I swear I would never hurt you."

"Tanya, did he hurt you and Terry? And if so where was he buried?" Dean reached out and placed a hand gently on hers, not wanting to push, but needing the information.

"He um, he didn't make his move on me until after he got custody of us." She sighed and fought back her tears. "But Terry said that he was being abused by Uncle Ed as early as age five. It's just dumb, but we never told, he brainwashed us somehow. The only way for me to get out of his grasp was to marry, but I lucked out and David is great." Tanya dabbed at her eyes again, and took a few moments to get herself under control. "Terry though, he had to live with that monster. He was there when Ed died. There was no escape for Terry, thank god that bastard died, terrible to say I know but honestly that man almost ruined my life and I'm not sure if Terry will ever be okay." She shook her head with regret at the loss of her brother and his innocence. "Ever since Ed died, Terry has just been getting angrier and more and more withdrawn, I worry about him."

"Where was your Uncle buried? We _need_ to know." Dean began to worry that time was up and a child was suffering at that exact moment.

"Why? For closure? I know there is no closure for Terry, he can't let go, he won't talk about it, not even to me." Tanya sobbed her memories of the abuse overtaking her and she began to shake with sobs again.

"You're not going to believe this, but you're Uncle is responsible for the recent deaths. We hunt things like this and we need to know where he was buried so we can stop this from happening again." Sam bit the bullet and prayed that she wouldn't think he was nuts and call the cops.

"Really? How the hell does that pay?" Tanya joked, smiling through her tears and giving over to the insanity, which the night was turning into. "I mean why not, your dad was either a spy or a crazy survivalist who was planning on over-throwing the government."

Sam hugged her gently and looked at Dean for support to break rule number one by giving the whole story, receiving a nod of consent he dove in. "Actually he did what we do. We hunt down things that are doing harm. Be they ghost or demon or creature, don't worry we're not crazy we just know things you don't."

"It's been such a night, hell such a weird couple of days, seeing you both again, that I can believe in anything right now." Tanya looked ruefully at the several beers she'd gone through. "Well it could just be the odd last few weeks or the several beers I slammed in the last half an hour." She looked into Sam's earnest eyes and saw no deception in them. "Fine, he's buried in Fernwood Meadows near the one and only mausoleum, while you're out there light the bastard on fire for me would you?"

"Funny you should say that because in order to-" Dean began a slight smile on his face before he was silenced by Sam's lightening glare. "I mean, thanks we've got to run because the pattern of the attacks is dangerously close to repeating today or tomorrow night."

"Go save some lives. Don't let anyone else go through this kind of thing. Don't let him ruin any more lives? Please?" She held Sam and Dean's hands and gave them another watery smile.

"We'll do our best. I promise." Sam nodded to Dean and they left together, getting into the Impala with a sense of purpose and a good bit of vengeance.

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Dean and Sam cracked open the trunk with a certain amount of satisfaction.

"This one is going to be a pleasure, because this guy's deserving of a salt and burn." Dean almost joyfully pulled out the shovels and handed one over to Sam who had the gleam of vengeance in his eye as well.

"Let's get his done; I don't want this ghost existing here any longer." Sam narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth with determination.

After finding the grave, they commenced digging, which, as usual took a while. They talked out their memories of the town and Terry and Tanya as kids.

"Jackpot." Dean proclaimed as he hit coffin and he was about to crack open the lid when Sam cleared his throat meaningfully. "What?"

"I'll take this one, I think I need to." He gave Dean a hand getting out of the grave before jumping in himself. "Besides it's the least I can do for my ex-wife and my ex-in-law." Sam quirked a smile at Dean, who actually laughed as he handed down the crowbar. Sam opened the lid and faced Ed, who had been remarkable well preserved.

"So since Tanya's your ex and all I guess it would be in bad taste for me to ask her out then, huh?" Dean quirked a smile at Sam as he was salting the corpse.

"Dude, she's married." Sam looked at Dean in amazement. "And she has kids, anything ringing a bell?"

"Yeah, but I'm not worried about it. I mean I could take David, and those kids seemed to like me." Dean smirked to show Sam he was joking. "No, seriously, who knew she'd turn into such a hottie?"

"Back off Dean, she _is_ my ex-wife." Sam grinned as he watched Dean laugh. "Do you think Tanya and Terry will be okay? I mean, I know Tanya is doing okay but I'm worried about Terry. He um, he needs help I think."

"Well we need to stick around for a little while to be sure we got the right corpse." Dean looked down on the grave with distain. "So if you want to catch up, now's a good time and I'm sure the guy could use a friend who is kinda messed up to sympathize with him, to talk with. And as you are a freak and kinda new age-y with your self help philosophy, you're going to have to do."

"Dude, sounds like a good idea and after that last hunt, I could use a little R&R, how about you?" Sam ruefully admitted as he looked down and watched the fire burn, feeling like he had done a truly good thing.

"Wanna swing by the bar, play a little pool to cover the room costs and grab a coupla beers?" Dean asked as he threw an arm around Sam's shoulders. "Sound like a plan?"

"As much as any of your plans ever do." Sam shot back, smirking as Dean gave him a shove and picked up the shovels before heading back to the car.

The End

Copyright Rae Artemis 2007. SNSIE.

Thanks to:

AJ – Editor

Sam – Just for rocking and being supportive

And of course

The SNSIE Team.


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